


My Own Two Legs

by raendown



Series: NaNoWriMo 2020 Drabbles [92]
Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-10 03:29:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21458287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/pseuds/raendown
Summary: Madara can do whatever the hell he wants. Consequences? Who has time to worry about those?
Relationships: Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara
Series: NaNoWriMo 2020 Drabbles [92]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1533161
Comments: 11
Kudos: 98





	My Own Two Legs

Despite having been told not to a hundred times or more, that did not stop Madara from kicking his feet up on to the Hokage desk and indiscriminately pushing aside whatever was in the way to make room for his own comfort. His partner gave him a scolding look but he blithely ignored it and settled a little deeper in to his chair, determined to be comfortable, even pushing back a little until he was balanced on the two back legs.

“You’re going to fall and hurt yourself,” Hashirama predicted. “Brother always says so.”

“And when have I ever listened to anything that popsicle says?” Madara scoffed.

“There’s no need to be mean.”

He ignored that too and continued to do whatever the hell he wanted. If his partner expected anything else of him he was going to be disappointed. Madara turned to look out the window but cringed when the motion pulled at his neck, cramped after another night of falling asleep in strange twisted positions. As much as he appreciated their vigorous sex life he really wished that Hashirama would let him find a more normal position before passing out over top of him sometimes.

“Is your neck okay?”

“Just sore,” Madara admitted, reaching back over one shoulder to rub at where the muscles had all bunched together in a painful knot. “_Someone_ twisted me up in to a pretzel and then fell asleep on me last night. My neck was not a fan of that.”

Hashirama was up and hurrying around the desk as soon as he finished speaking. “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry! Let me help you feel better!”

The last thing he was going to do at the moment was turn down a free neck rub. Madara closed his eyes and groaned freely at the sensation of those strong fingers digging in to his muscles, the sound of it stretching out in to something almost lewd when Hashirama added thumbs up the back of his neck. Nothing felt quite like this. Relief from pain and the knowledge that he deserved to be pampered all rolled together in to a delicious moment of pure bliss.

Unfortunately as he let himself drift in to the glorious sensations he failed to pay attention to what the rest of his body was doing and when the urge to stretch came over him he did so without giving it another thought. That was the wrong decision. Both of them cried out in unison as the stretching of his leg pushed his chair backwards and, as predicted, he tipped too far to recover. The back of his chair crashed in to Hashirama's knees as he went down and Madara's groans were no longer filled with pleasure as first his back slammed in to the floor and then Hashirama's weight crashed down on top of his chest.

Just like home, he thought wryly.

His partner would be proud of him for finding the silver lining in their situation, however, as he noted that the way Hashirama landed smashed their faces right in to each other’s groins. Not the first time they had been in that position though it was a first to have pain involved.

“I can’t decide whether this would be the best or the worst way to die,” he grumbled, voice muffled against the flaccid cock inside his partner’s trousers. Hashirama yelped and he could only guess the movement of his jaw had made for some interesting sensations. Together they worked to scramble apart, careful as they could be of each other’s soft spots, only regaining their feet after much swearing and shuffling. Most of it on Madara's part, of course.

“See!” Hashirama cried. “I–!”

“If you even think of saying the words ‘I told you so’ then you will be spending the night at your brother’s house for the next week.” Madara glared until his husband subsided with a pout that lasted only until his train of thought jumped to something new.

“Would you like me to kiss it better?” he asked. “Or I could finish that backrub.”

Madara eyed him to make sure he was being serious before slumping down in to the closest upright chair, very carefully keeping all four feet on the ground this time. Clearly it was all Hashirama's fault for making him relaxed enough to push them both over. The least he could do was finish what he’d started.

And never speak of this again.


End file.
